A Selfish Redemption
by OldSmoke
Summary: Sequel to Black Requiem. A troubled Cassandra Alexandra tries to undo a terrible mistake. Complete...?
1. Sisterly Advice

She had to stop him. If Soul Edge were to claim a new host, she was certain the Gods and more importantly Sophitia would never forgive her. 

Cassandra Alexandra had been following Siegfried for several days. When she had asked local villagers about a blond boy in Armor, they had pointed towards the village she was now dashing through. The sounds of battle grew closer and closer. Cassandra tightened her grip on her Short Sword and Shield. She began to mentally prepare herself for battle, how she would use her superior agility to dodge the youth's giant Zweihander sword and end his quest- and his life along with it. If that was the price of saving the world from another Knightmare, so be it. Besides, she had a personal debt to the bastard. Her head was still sore from that headbutt.

Cassandra found herself before the gangplank of a pirate ship anchored in the deserted town's port. The Greek let out a small gasp when she felt the presence of Soul Edge just a few feet away. And Siegfried was fighting someone, so… 

Her stomach knotted. It was worse than she had imagined. Siegfried and some other opponent were duelling over the cursed sword. Instead of cornering the German in a deserted village, it was possible she would have to take on a reborn Azure Knight by herself. Were her skills up to the task in such a grim scenario? 

She decided on a plan: Instead of attacking both Siegfried and his opponent and risk them uniting against her, she would wait until one finished the other and then attack the victor in his weakened state. She would kill Siegfried if he vanquished his opponent and likewise if the roles were reversed. It made no difference to her. Actually, she would get a little more pleasure out of executing the twisted German. 

Cassandra waited by the plank, trying to judge the who was winning by the grunts and screams of battle. After a seemingly endless amount of time she risked a look on the ship deck. Siegfried was standing with his back to her, then for reasons she couldn't fathom dropped his giant sword to the ground with a dull thump of iron on wood. She didn't notice that Soul Edge's presence had vanished.

Her eyes widened. She could hardly ask for a better target- unaware and unarmed. A silent prayer to Zeus, highest of the gods ran through her mind as she ran to him, praying that he would blind the senses of the evildoer so she could close for the killing blow. The Olympian must have smiled upon her. Cassandra thrust her sword with it's silver blade into Siegfried. It buried itself up to it's hilt in him, penetrating his armor, going between his ribs and into his heart. 

His visions of world conquest thwarted, the insane swordsman gasped and fell onto his stomach.

"Take that, Siegfried Schtauffen," She taunted. "It is a bitter ending for you to perish here, so close to your goal of reclaiming Soul Edge and again wreaking terror across the innocents of this world." She had no pity (_Cassandra…)_ for him or anyone else who sought the sword for their own twisted desires. She watched with amusement as he struggled to turn over; to see who had triumphed over him, no doubt. She watched until life had faded from his blue eyes then turned to leave. She considering the fastest route back home to Athens (_Cassandra.)_ when a pile of metallic debris caught her attention. She moved over to it and picked up what looked like a shard of a broken sword. The odd markings, the smell of old blood, was it…? 

She turned back to regard the body of Siegfried. 

"Did you do this?" she asked aloud. 

Nobody answered. She ran over to where Siegfried lay- 

_(Cassandra!) _

The voice of her sister brought Cassandra out of her daydream. She turned away from the window she had been looking out of to find a very angry Sophitia glaring at her. 

"That's three times I've had to call for you! You're like Narcissus, except instead of your reflection, you're in love with your laziness," her older sister reprimanded. "Have you forgotten that Alexandros' order needs to be done by tonight? Five dozen loaves in a few hours is a labor that would challenge even Hercules. Come on!" Cassandra cast her eyes on the floor, nodded and followed her sister to resume her job of kneading bread dough. She purposely avoided looking at the golden-brown rolls fresh out of the oven. The color made her uncomfortable. 

"Cassandra?" She looked up at her older sister, though it was difficult to see her as the sun had gone down several hours earlier. The two were walking home after finishing work. "I noticed that…you've been different lately." Cassandra nodded- a safe, neutral response. "Before you left to destroy Soul Edge," Sophitia continued, "you were the most dependable person I knew. But since then, you've changed." Cassandra kept silent and tried to guess where her sister was going with this. "You told me the blade was destroyed but you never told me exactly what happened." 

And Cassandra wanted to keep it that way. She was piecing together an excuse when one presented itself to her: they arrived at the fork in the road where the two sisters parted paths- Sophitia naturally shared her home with her husband and children while Cassandra lived with their parents. 

The younger sister feigned a yawn and said: "Sophie, it's late, we're both tired and it's not exactly a topic for light conversation. Perhaps tomorrow." Sophitia sighed- since having Pyrrha and Patroklos, Cassandra had noticed a shortening in her sister's patience- and seemed to be preparing to demand an explanation, but then thought better of it. Instead she placed her hand on Cassandra's shoulder. 

"Cassie, I'm not stupid. I can tell that something that you don't want to tell even your sister about is bothering you. I guess then the only way I can help you out is with advice, so here it is: Don't be afraid to ask the gods for guidance. I can tell you their words helped me out more than once when I searched for Soul Edge. And I have a feeling that subject has to do with what's on your mind." Sophitia smiled. "Good night." 

"Good Night," Cassandra returned. That night, she had a dream in which she was fighting the legendary hydra monster. Every time she cut off one of it's heads, two more grew in its place. She eventually killed it, but it had been oddly reluctant to fight her. 

Author's note: You may wish to read the prequel, Black Requiem. With only 6681 words and seven chapters, it's a fairly short read. 


	2. Out of Control

The ivory statue of Zeus was old. Not as old as Soul Edge, but over the years it had managed to avoid being broken up by robbers who preyed on temples like the one Cassandra found herself in. She approached the statue of the Thunder-Bearer and knelt before, sighing inwardly as she did. She had never been as devout as Sophitia, but she needed help that no mortal could give her. 

"Hear me, O Lord of Olympus, wielder of the sacred thunderbolt…" she continued the prayer, the words so familiar they scarcely had any more meaning for her. 

"Exactly who are you talking to?" a voice asked-one that belonged to no deity. Cassandra stood up and snatched the blade she had sheathed on her belt. 

In the shadow of one of the temple columns sat a dark figure Cassandra hadn't noticed coming in. As it stood up and stepped forward she could see he it was stocky man with a beard that was faded red in color. He dressed in leather armor and a straw hat obscured the rest of his facial features. With his thumb and forefinger he clasped the edge of his hat for lowered it. Cassandra realized he was nodding. 

"I didn't intend to startle you, girl…," he apologized. To Cassandra, his voice sounded full of knowledge, as though it belonged to a person who had experienced everything the world had to offer and mastered the most obscure of it's ways and arts. "…But I must tell you that the only one hearing you in this temple is me. That statue," he pointed a thumb at the sculpture, "is quite deaf." Cassandra didn't sheath her sword. 

"What're you doing here!?" She challenged. She could feel her pulse racing from the shock of him interrupting her prayer. "Only a scoundrel would crouch in the shadows as you did. Are you a thief who uses this sacred place as a nest from which to hunt travelers? Perhaps someone fleeing from his debtors? Answer!" Cassandra hated being caught by surprise. She wanted an excuse to run her blade through the old man. Just like- 

He held out his hands to show he had no weapon. 

"Calm yourself, child. I'm just a weary traveler seeking shelter from the afternoon heat. Such a scorching land you Greeks live in; I don't know how you do it…." She could feel reason creeping in and retaking her emotions. She put her sword away. The old man began to pace around the large room they were in. Cassandra watched his movements. 

"Now that we're on more civil terms, may I ask what you were going to ask your precious statue for?" 

"Why?" 

He shrugged, like it was something everyone knew. 

"Perhaps I'd be able to help." 

"Not likely, unless you know the ways of Heaven and Earth." Beneath his hat, she could see a smirk form. 

"You'd be surprised at what I can do." The old man then turned around and started for the temple exit. Cassandra was watching him leave when she realized it. She ran past him and put herself between the old man and the doorway. 

"What do you mean by that!?" She was shouting, something a reserved girl like Cassandra only did rarely. He stopped. 

"…Nothing. Only the strange words of an old traveler. Go back to your statue." But he only stood there and made no move to continue out of the temple. 

"You're lying. First you offer me your help, then turn around and march out? Come on, you knew what you were saying." He sighed and consented.

"Very well. But it will make things less awkward if we were introduced. What is your name?" He asked. 

"Cassandra Alexandra," she answered. Something clicked in the old man and he became a great deal more enthusiastic. 

"Well then, this makes things much more interesting! And what exactly is it you want of me, Miss Alexandra?" Cassandra paused. It would be the first time she had told anyone of the delusion, the hope she had been holding ever since returning from her journey. She hadn't even told Sophitia. It wasn't like her big sister could help her. Yet here Cassandra was, about to reveal her wish to a traveler she had known only for a few minutes. 

"I…I wish to speak with a departed soul." 

The old man smiled. 

"Ah, I was hoping you'd ask for something like that. I bet you had in mind something like a séance. But why settle for an imitation," he asked, "when you can have the real thing?" 

Her eyes opened wide. Was he saying that…? 

"There's an English noblewoman who has what you need. Isabella Valentine- better known as Ivy. She fancies herself an alchemist and has in her possession a magic artefact, the Crest of Tears. You'll find her estate near the quaint town of Westingmessexfordchestershire. Just get the Crest and the rest will be simple. I promise." 

The girl nodded and ran out of the temple. While she disappeared into the distance, the old man removed his hat to scratch the scar on his head. 

"Stupid girl, didn't even ask me my name." 

__

Isabella Valentine stared up at the portrait of her father. Lord Valentine was depicted as a stern old aristocrat, glaring at all who paused to gaze upon like his daughter was doing now. 

"You're part of the past now." Ivy said to no one in particular. A servant approached her. 

"My Lady, you have a guest. He says he sells supplies for all manners of alchemy and asks if you are interested in purchasing some of his wares." 

"Bring him in. And," she indicated the painting, "dispose of this." 

"Yes, my Lady." 

Standing up on the stairway, she could see the merchant standing in the entrance hall of the estate. 

"Dear traveler, I am obligated to welcome you to my home," Ivy began as she descended the stairs. "I am Isabella Valentine, Lady of this estate. It is far too late in the day to conduct business so I will also be your host for the evening." The Englishwoman approached her guest and clasped his hand, taking the opportunity to scrutinize him. He had short blond hair and was dressed in a heavy overcoat for protection against the elements. "To whom do I have the honor of entertaining, Mr…?" she asked. 

"Alexander," he replied in a voice that was unexpectedly hoarse." Ivy's eyes narrowed. 

"Are you ill?" He shook his head no. 

"War wound." She peered, then shrugged. Just because Ivy couldn't see any obvious disfigurements. 

"Very well. Dinner will be served in the dining hall three hours from now. Please don't be late." She went back upstairs leaving her guest behind. 

"And you say this is where your mistress disappears to?" 

"Yes, for hours at a time." The servant looked very happy. He had every reason to be, considering the hefty sum Cassandra had given him as incentive to spill his Lady's secrets. The laboratory vibrated with the smell of things being heated under alcohol burners and vials of multicoloured liquids bubbling. 

"You may go now, Cassandra said, dismissing the servant. He nodded and scurried up the stairs. When he had left, Cassandra hurriedly began searching for the Crest of Tears. With her hair specially arranged and using her war-injury story as an excuse to keep quiet, she could deceive Ivy with her disguise for a few brief encounters, but no more. She needed the Crest and quickly. She turned aside skulls and books, some of which were so old they crumbled to dust as she threw them aside. Cassandra swept clean entire tables full of flasks of beakers in her search, ignoring the sound of breaking glass and the crunching sounds her boots made as she walked over the shards. 

By one wall was a glass cabinet that housed what looked like a slab of white stone. Cassandra moved closer to it. 

"I imagine that's what you're looking for, because you've destroyed just about everything else down here," a voice behind her. A very cross-looking Ivy stood on the stairs, glaring down at her and blocking the only exit. "Yes, that would be the Crest of Tears- the only thing on earth that can bring beck the dead and no doubt what you came to steal." 

"Please let me have, Ivy. I need it more than you do." Cassandra pleaded. But her hand moved to her sword as she spoke. Ivy noticed. How rude of you to fray your weapon in my house. Have I not been a charitable hostess? In fact, I'll even give you a gift, in spite of you destroying years of research and work because of your greed. You see that rope cord, there in the corner?" Cassandra nodded. 

"Pull it." Cassandra was torn. On one hand she wanted to just grab the Crest and run past Ivy. On the other hand, she wanted to see what pulling the cord did. Curiosity won. She gave it a good tug. An iron shutter opened to reveal- 

Cassandra screamed. Behind the shutter, encases in a giant glass case was a giant bald man, with pupiless eyes and I giant, rusted axe grasped in a gigantic paw of a hand. The upper and lower halves of its body had apparently come apart at some point- a line of stitches stretched across the torso. 

"That's Astaroth," Ivy explained as she slowly walked down the laboratory stairs. "A demon who was killed by a wandering swordsman; at least that's what it told me before I remove its ability to speak. I was seeking Soul Edge in Saxony when I learned a great monster had been slain nearby. .Because I had recently taken the Crest of Tears from the money pit I decided to test it out. I went to the same spot where the creature had been defeated and pronounced the words inscribed on the crest. Lo and behold, " Ivy snickered, "it worked. Now his first task as my personal weapon is to destroy this thief." The Englishwoman removed her Ivy blade from her belt and smashed the glass with its hilt. 

Astaroth came alive in immediately. It turned it's head towards Cassandra and stepped out of its prison. Ivy blade changed into it's whip sword, and its owner began advancing toward Cassandra. The Greek woman drew her sword and shield and discarded her cloak- with her ruse discovered, she had no more need for a disguise. She dashed toward Astaroth, intending to decapitate the beast with one swipe then concentrate on Ivy. Something curled around her ankle, then she was flying across the room. Cassandra knocked over a table and landed with a *crash!* She briefly lost track of time. When she regained her senses, Astaroth was on its haunches and reaching for her. Cassandra meant to stab the demon in the face with her sword, but she found herself holding a flask of purple liquid instead. The container fragmented. Astaroth shrieked- a noise no human could never hope to imitate- as the glass shards and sulphuric liquid alternately shredded and burned its eyes. Cassandra rolled away and snatched her sword off the ground. The now-blind monster was swinging its axe indiscriminately, hitting shelves, tables, glass, miscellaneous instruments and- 

Ivy. The Englishwoman toppled to the floor, dead. 

Cassandra saw the crest on the other side of the room. She ducked under Astaroth's axe scooped it up and ran up the stairs. Before opening the door to the rest of the mansion she looked back. The demon must have knocked over something flammable because a fire had started in one part of the room. Indeed, it was still vainly searching for its target, stomping in feet and bellowing in rage, trampling Ivy's corpse in the process. Cassandra hadn't meant for anybody to do die, but… 

She hugged the crest close to her as she left the mansion. 


	3. A Foolish Delusion

_Why do you complain?,_ The voice asked. _With Soul Edge destroyed,_ _your role on the stage of history has concluded. See how beautiful the mountains and sky are. Is it not joyous to simply be alive? My use of your battered frame lets you enjoy these wonders for just a little longer. And for that you should thank me for giving your life story an extra chapter, so to speak. _

The old warrior was helpless to answer. He always was. 

_Oh look, the girl has arrived with the Crest. Isn't it lovely when things work out? _It moved his hand to grasp the staff and bring him to his feet. It turned him to face her. 

*****

The Crest of Tears was heavy. Very heavy, in fact. But Cassandra was still able to bound up the temple stairs two at a time to the huge wooden door where the old man was waiting inside. He was standing with his back to her 

"I have the Crest," she announced." She unslung the bag from around her shoulder and placed it on the floor. Using her foot, she slid it across the marble floor to him. He gave no acknowledgement for several moments." 

"I trust that Countess Valentine was a graceful hostess," he asked without turning." Cassandra drew in a breath. 

"Unfortunately, an demon attacked the manor and slew everyone there, including Lady Valentine. I was barely able to escape the wreckage with the Crest and my life." _A half-lie is better than a whole_, she told herself. 

"Just as well. The Crest of Tears was an old Valentine family heirloom that came into their possession when Lord Valentine himself raided the money pit to pay his debts. She would not likely have parted with it willingly." He finally turned around. His Asian straw hat was still obscuring his visage, just like before. "Very well. I with the power of the Crest, I can return Siegfried Schtauffen from the beyond. I will require several hours to prepare the ritual, but I will have him by tomorrow morning," he promised. 

"Th-thank you," she stammered. Cassandra could scarcely believed it was possible to undo the mistake she had made on that ship. Was it too good to be true? 

"But why are you doing this for me? Are you going to ask for a fee like a moneylender?" As she was speaking, the old man again turned to face the statue. 

"Child, I'm supposed to be the cynical one with my years and all. Some things in life are just their own reward, that's all. Have we as a people become so heartless that it is impossible to assume some people just go out of their way to help others?" 

"Then I've misjudged you, and for that I apologize," Cassandra said. "I'll return in the morning, then." She left the temple. The old man waited for several minutes to make sure she had truly gone, then picked up the Crest. He took it high in his hands and began to chant the required spells to activate it's power. It would only take a few moments to bring back who he needed. 

*****

It was like waking up from a long dream. The youth opened his eyes and found himself staring at a stone ceiling. He tilted his head around, trying to see where he was. It had been so long she had had a physical body. Just moving felt strange. 

"Where…where is this?" He was wearing…his old armor!? The same one he'd worn on…that day. He sat up and felt around his back. Yes, the hole where…_she _had stabbed him was there. 

"Siegfried…" He whipped his head around to the sound of the voice. An old man was standing there, with a red beard and a straw hat. He knelt down and helped him to his feet. "Thank goodness you're here! A cult dedicated to the worship of Soul Edge has taken over the Greek city of Athens and plans to use black magic to reforge the sword! 

"What?! That's terrible!" Siegfried was shocked. All the work he had done to destroy the Blade, _and people were working to bring it back?_ The old man nodded. 

"Aye, and what's worst, they've managed to delude the population of the city into joining their cause. I'm afraid there is no hope of saving them." He wore a grim expression. I summoned you back because I know you were experienced in combating the influence of the evil blade. Siegfried Schtauffen, we need your help again!" He handed Siegfried a sword. In the darkness of the temple, he could see little of it besides its outline. "Go forth and deliver the Athenians from their evil." 

*****

_Siegfried was standing there in front of her. He was dressed in the rich attire of a nobleman. The first few buttons of his shirt were undone, giving a hint of his muscular physique. They were standing on a palace balcony overlooking the ocean. _

"Cassandra," he began. "I know how you must feel, and before you say anything, I want you to know that I forgive you." He moved towards her. 

"Siegfried…you're back…" 

"Yes. I've returned…for you." He tilted her face with his hands and moved his close to hers. She closed her eyes… 

"Cassandra, by the gods, WAKE UP!" Someone was shaking her. A lot. She opened her eyes. Her mother was standing above her. "A swordsman has come into the city and is attacking people at random! Go out there and stop him!" Cassandra muttered a curse and got out of bed. It was bad enough that some barbarian had started attacking her people, but in the middle of a particularly good dream… 

When Cassandra had gathered her weapons, she left home and followed the sound of the screaming. It was loudest in the city marketplace. Most people had the wise sense to stay inside. A few were running across the bridge that linked the marketplace to the rest of the city. The merchants had abandoned their stands. At the opposite end of the street she could see an armoured figure dispatch a small group of people. The bloodshed of her people angered her. She tightened the grip on her short sword and marched forward. 

*****

"Take that, you stupid deceived soul!" he muttered. as he dispatched another boy. After several hours of this grisly work, his steel armor was now covered in blood. His blade was also a dark red- not from gore, but the blade itself seemed to be tinted that shade. It didn't bother him. 

"Siegfried?" A voice behind him asked. He turned. Who knew his name in this city!?

Cassandra Alexandra did. And she was standing before him. With the very same short sword she had killed him with. "What are you doing?" Siegfried found it difficult to speak. He finally was able to. 

"You…you to have joined the cultists?" he asked. Was she evil too? 

"What cultists?" 

"The ones who worship Soul Edge and have taken over your city, of course!" His mind and heart were racing. If she was toying with them, did that mean she was part of them? 

"Siegfried, there are no cultists. Who told you this?" 

"I did." A third voice informed them. They both turned. The old man was standing there before them, holding his cane with both hands and planted firmly on the ground before them. Then he took off his familiar straw hat to reveal himself. He wore a long red beard and along his bald head were a series of stitches. Cassandra stared at him. 

"Edge Master?" The figure didn't change his expression as he answered. 

"I was called that once, but he is no more. While I may resemble him physically, I myself have no name, for I need none. You may consider me to be the 'guardian' of Soul Edge, so to speak." He turned his gaze to Siegfried. "Thank you Siegfried. You performed wonderfully, and your part in this is over." 

"Part in what he!?" He demanded. To him, this was all seeming disturbingly familiar. 

"See that sword you're holding?" Siegfried took a closer look at it. It's red color had grown brighter and…_veins_ could be seen running through the length of the blade. Then, near the hilt a _human eye _opened and looked at him. Siegfried nearly dropped it out of shock. "How ironic that you were both the last holder of the old Soul Edge and the first of the new One." 

The two humans gasped. "It is quite young," he continued, "so it hasn't yet gained the ensnaring power of its ancestor, but give it time." And he started to laugh. "And in case you're wondering Siegfried, yes, you were feeding it by killing those 'cultists. And now that your task is complete, you may return whence you came." Edge Master ran towards the German and with a single blow from his fist sent him flying backwards, beyond the bridge and into the river below. 

"Siegfried!!!" Cassandra screamed. She was torn between running after him and- 

"Pity," Edge Master said as he picked up the reborn Soul Edge where Siegfried had dropped it. "It's turn now, I believe," he said with a calm voice. "So be a good girl…" He raised his sword… 

Cassandra dodged the blade as he brought in down on the ground. She backed away, trying to put space between her and Edge Master. With a dash that surprised he lunged with a stab she managed to deflect with her shield. With Edge Master off balanced, she was able to stab him right through the shoulder. He didn't scream in pain. What he did do was smack her with the flat side of the blade and send her crashing into an empty fruit stand. The broken wood scratched her as she struggled to her feet, But had she been any slower the next slice would have cleaved her in two. 

"How silly you look, with your wounds and fatigue," he taunted. "How fragile." She watched him move towards hers, trying to figure how he would next swing the blade. So she was completely surprised when he kicked her square in the chest to knock her down. She barely raised her shield in time to stop his sword from driving into her stomach. He pushed and strained, trying to force the point through the steel of her antler shield. Edge Master might not have been human, but he was still capable of making mistakes. With her other hand she was able slash her sword across his neck and decapitate him. Blood geyser out of the wound, spraying her. She pushed the twitching corpse off her. Cassandra stood up, took the new Soul Edge and smashed it on the ground. It shattered and vanished. 

*****

He knew he was dying. It was a familiar experience for him. He body ached. It felt like every bone in his body was broken. Maybe they were. All he could do was stare at the sky and feel life slipping away from him. Someone with a yellow halo of hair appeared in his field of his vision. 

"Hello Cassie. Have you come to finish me off for the second time?" 

"You're wounded," she said. He could see her eyes open wide. She sounded frightened. 

"Then it should only take one stab, just like before." She knelt beside him. 

"Siegfried, It was me who wanted you brought. I wanted to tell you…how sorry I was…what a mistake I had made." He didn't know how to answer, how to tell her not to worry about, that it was all water under the bridge. He was too weak to reach up and touch her face. Siegfried knew he was slipping away again. Cassandra cradled his head in her arms. 

"No…don't leave me again! Don't leave me alone in this world…

__

…This world… 

…This world… 

"_…_again wreaking terror across the innocents of this world." He was back on Cervantes ship. He knew know. He wouldn't be brought back. He wouldn't wield the new Soul Edge. Cassandra wouldn't cry over his second death. It was only his fevered mind atrophying as he was dying. He moved his head slightly, the only movement he could manage. Cassandra was there, scowling at him. As the light faded from his eyes, it was the last thing he ever saw. 


End file.
